


Copycat

by pythagorean_identity



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, I think?, M/M, set in s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythagorean_identity/pseuds/pythagorean_identity
Summary: Lance has a difficult time accepting being the new red paladin.





	Copycat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LanceTheBluLyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanceTheBluLyon/gifts).



> Kinda inspired off a youtube video/song of the same name because over here we don't come up with original titles, no sir. I wrote this in june so it's a little old. Gift for my beta/writing buddy because they put up with my ridiculous story ideas and read for fandoms they're not a part of. You're the best, pal.

The barrier didn’t go down.   
Blue, his blue, the one thing, _the one good thing_ that had happened to Lance, sat like an inanimate, judging statue, staring down at him with dull, dead yellow eyes.   
_She knows. She knows how you begged and begged the Black Lion to accept you. The best thing in your life and you were so ready to throw her away._  
The jokes he had been spouting to try and sweet talk the barrier down died in his mouth.  
“It’s… Blue, I didn’t mean it. I’m happy being your paladin! I just… I thought maybe I’d... I don’t know, I’m sorry Blue, I didn’t mean it,” he said.  
The lion didn’t move. Her eyes didn’t light up, the barrier didn’t go down. If anything, the room seemed to get colder.   
“Come on, Blue. Please, I’m sorry. They need… I need you! C’mon, we’re pals, right?” Lance tried, grinning up at the lion.  
Still nothing.  
His friends yelled over the coms at him, but Lance couldn’t do anything, because Blue wasn’t responding. Why?   
“Everything alright, Lance?”   
The paladin whirled around to face Allura.  
“Yeah, just… Blue won’t open up for me,” he said.  
Allura blinked at the obvious barrier and inert lion.  
“Maybe Pidge was right. I am just a goofball. I’m not meant to lead Voltron, and I guess now I’m not even meant to be a Paladin,” Lance’s words dropped in volume until the last admission was nearly a whisper.  
Allura was about to say something when a metallic roar echoed through the room. It clearly wasn’t Blue roaring, as the lion hadn’t moved, still.  
“What was that?” Lance asked.  
Allura’s alien blue eyes widened.  
“The red lion! It must be calling you!”  
“C’mon Allura, nice joke. If anyone, the red lion would be calling for you, not me. Your dad was Red’s Paladin, right? Then she’ll surely want you to be her paladin, not a goofball like me,” Lance said, falling back on his comfortable joking persona. The one that got him labeled as a troublemaker and goofball.  
“No, Lance. You know why my father was the Red Paladin? Because while he was the one who made Voltron, he knew that Zarkon was a better leader than he was. So he made himself Voltron’s right hand. When you accepted Keith as the new Black Paladin, you proved yourself worthy of being the Red Paladin,” Allura said.  
 _But I don’t want to be the Red Paladin. I don’t want to be second best, I’m sick of just following Keith’s footsteps._

But Lance didn’t protest further. He didn’t put up a fuss as he walked over to where the Red Lion waited for him. The Red Lion didn’t look too different from the Blue Lion, just… red. Even though there were no physical differences other than color, the Red Lion’s eyes, when they burned to life, seemed to glare through Lance in a way Blue’s never did. They were the same luminous yellow as all the other lions, but Lance felt… judged when Red woke and stared down at him.  
For one terrible, gut-twisting moment, he thought Red would reject him too. That his exile from Voltron would be complete, all the lions would refuse him as their Paladin, and he’d be useless.  
But Red lowered her head and opened her mouth, accepted Lance at her controls. 

Piloting Red was so different from Blue. Instead of the calming, cool glow Lance was used to, the Red Lion’s controls blazed red, a color Lance had only ever seen as a warning. Red was faster, moved differently. He had to admit that the speed was nice, but after the glee of that wore off, Red felt… alien.   
Even though she had accepted him, he felt like he didn’t belong, like an imposter. He didn’t belong here, Keith did. Red was Keith’s, and Lance felt like he was trespassing, invading, whenever he sat behind Red’s controls.  
Keith looked better in Red, bathed in the bloody light of her controls. Keith was red warnings, flaring danger signs, fire and skill and power and everything Lance wasn’t and wished he was.

But now that he had it, had Red, he knew it wasn’t right. But who was he to protest to the near-magical entities that were the Lions?  
“Hey, Red,”  
He felt silly talking to Red, but had never felt uncomfortable talking to Blue. But it was late, nobody else would be around to hear him.  
“Allura thinks you chose me because I accepted Keith to be the rightful leader of Voltron, is that… is that why? Or did you just choose me because I’m like… like a knockoff Keith?” he asked.  
“Because I’m not, you know. I’m nothing like Keith. He’s… he’s perfect, and I’m just a screw up. Perfect Keith with his stupid mullet and stupid Black Lion and stupid good scores… you just tolerate me because I’m the next best thing, huh? Lance the knockoff Keith. You don’t have to pretend to tolerate me. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard for the others to hunt down a new Red Paladin if they needed to, and just dump knockoff Lance back on earth,”  
The words felt bitter in Lance’s mouth, and he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.  
“Just. Maybe do us all a favor and stop pretending, huh?”  
Red didn’t respond, and as Lance turned to leave, he spotted someone in the doorway.  
Lance’s blood ran cold.  
“How long were you standing there?” Lance asked.  
Keith stared at Lance, his expression unreadable.  
“Long enough,” Keith said. “Are you alright?”  
Lance forced a smile, but it came out as more of a snarl.  
“Just fine. Leave me alone,” Lance tried to storm past Keith, but the other Paladin grabbed his arm.  
“Listen, Lance, I get it-”  
“What do you mean, you get it? How could you possibly get it?” Lance snapped. “You… every time I tried to find something good in my life, you were always there and always better! I transferred into flight school, and you were the best pilot! You dropped out and I finally thought I’d have a chance, but they shoved me off to be a cargo pilot! Pidge found something cool out in the desert but you were there first! Blue was the one good thing I had in life that you hadn’t been first! And now Blue doesn’t even want me! You don’t know _anything_ you’ve always just been perfect, amazing, untouchable, h-handsome Keith! I hate it! I hate being like you and I hate liking you!”  
Keith blinked, and for once he didn’t look so broodingly closed off. He looked… shocked. Hurt, almost.  
“Lance, I didn’t-”  
“Leave me alone!”  
Lance yanked his arm out of Keith’s grip, and ran.   
_Idiot. Idiot!_  
“Lance, wait! I… I’m sorry, please don’t go, I sort of understand-”  
Keith was chasing after him.  
 _Good. For once let him be the one that follows you._  
“I didn’t want to be the Black Paladin, Shiro just-”  
Lance stopped and whirled around, turning on his heel to face Keith.  
“Shiro what? Willed the Black Lion to you, huh?”  
If Lance thought Keith looked hurt before, he certainly did now.  
“Lance, it’s not like that, if you would just-”  
“And let me guess, you felt bad and told Red to accept me, huh? Goofball Lance, the second best. Probably thought you’d throw off the team dynamic if Voltron didn’t have it’s goofball,” Lance said venomously. He forced a smile through the twisting storm of emotion.  
“I don’t want to be the Black Paladin! I enjoy it about as much as you like being the Red Paladin! Do you know what it’s like to try and be someone you’re not?” Keith shouted.  
“As a matter of fact, yes, I do! Every damn time I sit down in Red’s cockpit!”  
Keith blinked.  
“Then you really… you really do think you don’t deserve Red?”  
“How could I? How could I live up to everything you are?” Lance’s voice cracked. “You make everything look so _easy_ …”  
“It’s not. I just. Pretend, you know? I don’t know how much longer I’ll last, though.”  
Lance choked out a laugh.  
“Yeah, if I’ve only made it this long, how long will the real Keith last?”  
Keith put a hand on Lance’s shoulder.  
“Lance, stop. You’re not me. I don’t care what other people have said but I don’t think you’re a knockoff. You’re Lance,”  
“You’re just saying that,”  
“No! I mean it. I… if I’m being honest, you kind of annoyed me at first, but you’ve grown on me, you know?”  
It was Lance’s turn to be confused.  
“I mean, you’re our sharpshooter. I trust you,” Keith said.  
It felt sincere. It felt too good to be true.  
But Lance melted into Keith’s hug anyways.  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so, well, mean. I don’t hate you,” Lance mumbled into Keith’s shoulder.  
“That’s comforting. Is this going to be another bonding moment you conveniently forget?”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


End file.
